


Dirty

by GirlWhoLovesMonsters



Series: Manzor (Slipping Away) [4]
Category: Marilyn Manson - Fandom, Trent Reznor - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 15:12:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlWhoLovesMonsters/pseuds/GirlWhoLovesMonsters
Summary: They have needs and the meet them





	Dirty

"Yes sir." Brian shakily gasped out. His hands were bound above his head, he stood on his tiptoes, his now short hair falling in his face where it would have once fallen past his shoulders, his naked body covered in goosebumps, as he shook against the restraint. 

"You're a dirty whore aren't you? You want to be so famous, so important but you're just a sleazy slut. Filthy." Trent spat the words as if they hurt his mouth coming out. 

"Yes. I'm dirt, worthless dirt." Brian murmured the words as he made the admission. He hated playing this game with Trent but he loved it so much also. He had missed this, in the years they were apart, every bad thing that ever happened made him pine for Trent. Trent was the one person who could really ground him, get him. Every horrible thing he'd ever thought about himself Trent made him face, every terrible thing anyone had ever done or said him Trent threw it at him full force making him embrace it, turning it into something he couldn't explain. 

Trent backed away from his body, and looked at him over, making sure to meet Brian's gaze. "Disgusting. Look at these scars, all over you. What am I supposed to do with this? Huh?" Trent pulled a lipstick tube from his pocket and approached Brian's body again. Brian inhaled deeply fighting back tears maybe, fighting the vulgar vulnerability he had displayed for Trent's abuse. 

Trent gripped Brian's face in on hand squeezing his lips together. "You can put lipstick on a pig... but..." he spoke disinterestedly as he swiped the red stain across his lips sloppily. "Yep... still a disgusting pig."

"I'm not a pig. Asshole!" Brian spit in Trent's direction missing him, but trying desperately to hold on to his cold nature. Trent almost looked at him apologetically, in the past the slur had a different meaning, however in recent years neither of them were who they once were. Young tight bodies had been replaced with older more curvy bodies, and for a moment Trent wished he'd chosen a different insult. But in the spirit of brevity he continued on, making him face the pain, the body issues, the hurt, all of it. Trent wanted him to tremble with hate, anger, remorse, desire and need. 

"You're not? Are you sure? I bet I can make you squeal!" Trent scoffed at him, ignoring the spit that fell at his feet for now. He trailed the lipstick over his body, circling scars, pointing out flaws along the way. 

"Are you going to fucking cry? Fucking baby? All this time and nothing changes. You're just a wittle fucking baby. Want a ba-ba? Look at this shit!" Trent held up flimsy full length Wal-Mart mirror, Brian grimaced seeing himself, he hated the reflection most of the time, somehow though, despite it all, Trent made him feel beautiful in every fucking flaw he pointed out. The words slut, whore, ugly, and other slurs were scrawled across his body. Scars circled, lines drawn where his waist used to curve inward almost femininely, were now straighter and more masculine and he'd put on weight with the change in drug use and age. Brian didnt want to see what Trent had done, but in the same sense he wanted a photo to capture it, album art. "If I circled everything that is wrong with you, I'd need a store full of lipsticks." Trent continued to gaze into Brian's eyes, both to be intimidating as well as search for the line he'd try not to cross. One thing he would never be able to forget is how to read him. Once you learned how to interpret his riddle you never forget the answers. All these years and Trent still dreamed about Brian's writhing body against his, all the hate they'd fuck out of each other, the wars they wage for simply no other reason than to fuck and break shit. They were each other's worst enemy and saving grace, nothing had changed. Except for them, their appearance, everything else felt the same, smelled the same, had the same heat and need. 

Brian's cock twitched at the degradation being thrown at him, he needed it, someone to validate his fears but also take them away. He got off on it, and Trent got off on inflicting it. 

"Tell me what you are! You fucking sing about it, tell me." Trent commanded, slapping Brian in the center of the chest with a flat palm. Brian jerked his body with the pain, and inhaled deeply through gritted teeth. 

"I am nobody. Nothing."

"You are nobody. A wanna be, my little puppet prodigy, my fuck toy and my whore. You are mine. Aren't you?" Trent's cold glare looked away for a brief moment from Brian's eyes and then looked back. Brian blinked away tears, earning another slap, and a scoff. 

"Where's the big bad Manson? Huh? Where's Mr. Superstar badass Anti-Christ?" He barehanded slapped him on the back and chest alternating between the two between words. Brian hissed with every impact, and let more tears fall. Trent already knew the answers to the questions he asked. That person died every time they were together, every time the ended up in this room or one similar, the bad ass didn't exist. Trent lifted his chin, searching his eyes again, it had been 15 years, he was timid in his dominance trying to read the lines, yet falling comfortably into his old rhythm. He used his thumb and harshly swiped away tears from his cheeks. "You remember your safe word don't you? Or have you forgotten that, like you've forgotten who the fuck you are?" 

"Starfucker." Brian said pointedly. He would never forget, the safeword, the song, how he'd ruined their lives with his bullshit, and jealousy. 

"Wow! He remembers something ladies and gentlemen! Good Job whore!." Trent spoke as if he didn't give a shit, but let his hand ghost over his cock in reward for his answer. 

"That's not something you forget Trent." Brian looked at him, eyes pleading for him to touch him gently, he wanted to feel his hands over his body, his lips, his warmth touching him, he wanted to feel love, like they once had. He knew that wouldn't happen, that's not why they were here. 

They'd ran into one another at a PR party he was with Tyler and Depp, both of which seemed good for Brian but they werent Trent. They didn't see Brian the way Trent did, his silent screams for help. He thought maybe Depp tried, but he would never know him the way Trent did, he'd never be able to save him. Trent noticed how he'd been derailing and seemed stiff after seeing him. His public image in the recent years had seesawed and he seemed to loose himself in everyone else's ideas. Someone else's puppet. His own downward spiral, Trent had the impulse to save his most prized possession, he couldn't watch him fall, he'd shatter like porcelain. He'd walked up behind him where he stood by the bar talking to Tyler and yanked the drink from his grip and wrapped his fingers around Brian's now muscular and large bicep, pulling him around to walk with him. He didn't speak, simply made eye contact and Brian followed him. He didn't put up a fight, asked where they were going, to which Trent simply looked him the eye with concern and ushered him out of the building.

"Please Trent?" He whispered the words as Trent's hand inches closer and closer to his leaking cock. 

"Please Trent what? Pathetic. You want me to make you cum? Is that it? That's all you ever want huh, immediate gratification. What the fuck makes you think you deserve it?"

Brian took a deep breath watching Trent's fingers trail down his torso, he waited for the smack, but it didn't come. "I'm waiting slut, answer me." 

Brian shook his head clearing his thoughts again. "I don't sir." 

"That's right. Greedy whore. Even if I let you cum, who cums first?"

"You sir."

"Fifteen years Brian. Fifteen fucking years, is your fucking hole worn out and loose or am I the only dick that's been in there?" Trent spoke softly, trailing his hand over Brian's back, following the arch and slipping a finger into the cleft of his ass, trailing his finger over the puckered flesh. 

"You're." Brian lost his train of thought as the finger glided back up over the sensitive skin, the other hand digging nails into random areas of his front half. 

"Fucking virgin all over again. How do I get so damn lucky?" 

Brian didn't respond, just focused on breathing as Trent's fingers kept sending him mixed signals, his head falling back as he panted, willing the fingers to do more than tease.

Trent stopped and stepped away again, leaving Brian a mess of hatred and need, just what he wanted. He grabbed a bottle of lube from a nearby table and slicked his fingers up, reclaiming his place beside Brian's body. Brian shuttered at the initial feeling of the cool greasy feeling against his skin, but soon he felt over heated, as one finger slowly circled his hole, the other hand rubbing soothingly now across his chest as Trent slowly pushed the finger inside. He stopped at every sign of resistance, easing his way inside until he'd engulfed his entire finger in Brian's heat. Brian grunted and panted our against the intrusion, pressing himself against it as much as possible. 

"Such a fucking whore. Always a whore."

"Yes sir. Please Trent, please fuck your whore, please!" Brian pleaded as the fingers rocked inside of him, finding his sweet spot. Brian shrieked out and his cock twitched with need, wanting more. 

"More? Please sir, Master, please more?" Brian cried out, breathing harshly through his teeth as Trent inserted another finger, crooning them to find his spot. 

"You're close aren't you? You could cum without me touching your dirty cock. Somethings never fucking change. You're too easy Brian, I don't even have to work for it." Trent barked at him, amused at how quickly he'd fallen apart. 

"Do you want my cock in you? Ask for it."

"Please Trent. Sir. Please can I have your cock in my ass?" He barely got the words out between moans as Trent kept rubbing that spot inside of him making his blood boil.

"Oh alright, since you asked so nicely. You'd better not cum. You know the rules." 

"Yes sir. Thank you siiiiiiiir." Brian shouted as Trent pushed himself inside of him to the hilt. 

He didn't give him time to adjust to the feeling, just started his hard pace. Trent almost lost himself, he needed this as much as if not more than Brian. He missed this, these things, the way he felt. A part of him wished they could trade places, he didn't know when the opportunity would arise again. 

His pace picked up getting erratic, and sloppy. Brian met all of his thrusts, screaming with each hit of his prostate. "Sir! I can't hold it! I'm gonna cum! Please sir! Please! Cum inside me, I want to feel you! Please!" Brian begged.

"Do not fucking cum! I will tell you when!" Trent commanded in a hoarse voice. Sweat stuck their bodies together, making slapping noises against one another, the room smelled of sex and sweat. Trent focused on the beads of sweat spilling down Brian's neck, and he laved his tongue over the flesh, tasting him. The cool air hitting the places where Trent's warm tongue had just been cause goosbumps to raise and Brian to moan even more. 

"You ready whore? Fucking take it all!" Trent panted cumming deep inside of Brian, who was barely hanging on to his own orgasm. Trent pulled out, slumping his body a little against Brian's, laughing. "I guess you want to cum don't you?"

Brian was shaking, so on edge he thought he could vomit or faint. "Please?" 

Trent's hand gripped his cock, Brian hissed at the contact, bit relished in the feeling, he knew it wouldn't take long at all for him to fall apart. He could feel Trent's cum seeping out of him and wetting his thighs, he felt dirty, he felt like all the things he'd said he was. He loved it. He was Trent's whore. "Thank you sir! Thank you, thank you!" Brian screamed frantically as his body jerked, streams of cum spilling from his body with force he didn't know possible. He slumped as much as he could in his position, resting his head against his arm, trying to catch his breath. Trent lowered the chains so he could stand flat footed and rest his arms by his sides. 

Trent rubbed his shoulders and arms, down his back as he came down from his high, helping him get the feeling back in his limbs. Once his breathing regulated he removed he cuffs. 

"You good?" 

"Yeah. Thanks." Brian spoke quietly. 

Trent went over to the sink and got a wash cloth, he rung it out and came back over to Brian. Gently he wiped the cloth over his body, removing some of the lipstick but mostly smearing the words and wiping off sweat, helping him cool down. Brian always liked the parts at the end, when Trent would tend to him, making sure he was okay. 

"Better actually. Thanks for real." 

Trent smiled, and stepped in front of him. "Any time man. Next time just fucking set aside your pride and call me. I'll always take the opportunity to make you feel like shit." He snickered, Brian glared at him, but understood the sentiment. 

"Think the party is over?" 

Trent looked at his phone. 3:30AM. "I fucking hope so."

"Good, I didn't want to go back. I know this might be a spur of the moment one time deal thing, I'm not going to pretend like there's a chance for more than that, but can we stay together, just for the night." 

Trent nodded. "You'll he gone before I wake up."

"Probably, but you'll keep me warm through the night and I'll keep your memory with me."

"You haunt my dreams Brian. I can't take another 15 years." 

"Yeah. I won't be a ghost. If you don't be vacant." 

"I'll be here. Present. Come on, let's go upstairs. You can shower and borrow some of my clothes."

"Just like old times huh?" Brian giggled like a school girl, making Trent even blush.

"Yeah, just like old times. We can't be like old times. We need to be better." 

"We are better this way Trent." 

They made it upstairs, Brian got his shower and crawled into Trent's bed. They snuggled close, holding one another in a comfortable silence for a while.

"I'll always love you Brian. You know that right?"

"Yeah, man, I know. That's why this works."

"You know you're not any of the horrible shit you say right?"

"Yes Trent. You make me believe that."

"You know I have faith in you right?"

"Yes Trent. You know I believe in you right?"

Trent breathed deeply, taking in his smell, trying to keep it with him for when he's gone.

"Yes Brian. You've always believed in me. You feed my dream, I grant your wishes. This is why we can't have nice things. I'll see you soon man. Falling asleep."

"I love you Trent." Brian whispered starting to fall asleep himself. He knew he'd leave as soon as the sun rose and his driver showed up, but he made himself a promise that this time he planned to keep. No matter what he would call Trent and keep up with him, even if it were just as friends and just for a little while at a time. He would force himself to stay. To be better. He would do it because he needed a vice and before drugs, Trent was his vice, Trent would be his sobriety, Trent would be his everything, while being nothing at all. Trent would save him from himself like he always had, and he would do the same for him just by being there. Brian slipped one of his rings off of his hand and onto Trent's finger. A promise to come back, something to come for. Trent made a fist, his mouth flickering into a small smile, aware of the gesture and letting himself go, as they both contentedly stopped fighting the sleep that came.


End file.
